Chains
by KeyPea
Summary: Prison had suited Dean, and Sammy knew exactly why. One-shot filth inspired by the season 2 episode "Folsom Prison Blues". Explicit Wincest, mature only please. Comment if you liked!


_**Chains**_

The boys stood by the Impala in the cemetery, the enormity of what they'd just achieved sinking in. They'd saved a lot of people, and not all of them innocent, from horrible deaths, but they'd added a prison break to their rap sheet in the process. Now they were pretty much up shit creek without a proverbial paddle.

"We need to go deep." Sammy remarked, and the innuendo wasn't lost on Dean, who raised an eyebrow. Sam's wording had surely been intentional.

"You look good in orange, baby boy, though I still think that suit would look better on the floor of a motel."

"You looked good in those chains. They sure suited you."

They stood and watched each other carefully, neither making the next move. A light breeze rustled the leaves of the trees in the graveyard and Sammy instinctively shrugged his shoulders against the chill. His prison suit was short-sleeved. Dean fingered the keys to the car. "Motel?"

"You bet."

Dean drove like a madman. Sammy had never seen him so eager to get to their destination, though he was pretty eager himself. In the darkness he discreetly slipped a hand inside his suit and felt for something he'd brought from the prison, checking it was still there. It was. He withdrew his hand and smirked all the way to the motel.

The Winchesters barged through the door of their room, lips together, kissing like their lives depended on it. Dean stopped only to slam the door and put on the chain behind them, then he grabbed a hold of each side of Sammy's orange suit, and in one swift move, ripped open all the poppers and pushed the material off his shoulders, exposing his naked chest. Dean made to kiss the exposed skin but Sam grabbed his face with both hands and pulled their lips together again.

They stumbled over to the bed, tongues dancing, panting and groaning, and Sam managed to remove Dean's top a split-second before his brother threw him down onto the quilt. He made to tug off the rest of Sam's suit but Sam stopped him with a hand to the chest, before winding his leg around and gently kicking the back of Dean's knee to make him collapse down on top of him; Sam then deftly rolled them so Dean was laying underneath with Sam straddling him.

Sam leaned over and flipped on the table lamp. "I want you to see this," he murmured to Dean, then slowly slipped his hand down the front of his own suit.

"Oh god Sammy, I love it when you touch yourself. Gets me so _hard_."

Sam wasn't quite touching himself though; instead he reached into his pants and withdrew a pair of handcuffs, dangling them in front of Dean, whose eyes went wide.

"Just a little souvenir from inside." Sammy remarked, and quickly snapped one end around Dean's wrist. He put his lips right up to Dean's ear and whispered, "You tried to hide it from me but I knew, I just knew you secretly loved to be locked up."

Dean went wild for it, and allowed Sammy to put the small amount of chain around one of the posts of the bedframe, then bring the other cuff down and snap it round his other wrist. Dean was usually the one with the dirty mouth but Sammy was easily creating a reputation of his own as he asked, grinding his hips against Dean's, "now who's going to be my little bitch?"

"Jerk." Dean's response was automatic from all the times they'd called each other those names.

"Oh I'm going to jerk you off good, Dean. I promise, I'm going to make you beg for it. You're the one tied up after all."

"Sammy, christ. Did I ever tell you I love it when you take control like this?"

"I don't think you did, but I figured it out myself. You wore those chains far too well."

Sammy slipped his hand between his brother's legs and gave a gentle squeeze. Dean was rock hard and ready to go, and Sam was in a similar condition himself. Leaving Dean chained to the bed he stepped back a few paces and carefully removed the rest of his clothes. He let Dean admire the view of his naked ass as he waltzed to their jackets, which they'd shed on entry to the room, and rummaged in a pocket. Dean admired the view again as Sammy came back towards him and placed a small bottle of lube on the bedside table.

Then Sammy got down to the business of removing the rest of Dean's clothes, and whilst he lay powerless, tasted every inch of him, apart from the few inches that mattered. Dean trembled as Sammy's head dipped down again and again and his hands moved up and down his thighs, teasing around Dean's twitching cock but never quite taking it into his palm or his mouth.

"You want to touch yourself, Dean? Shame you're all tied up like this." Sammy's eyes twinkled. He was loving this, loving what he could do to Dean in his position of power.

"_You_ could touch me," Dean panted, straining against his handcuffs, he wanted it so bad.

"I could. But will I?" Sammy's mouth hovered over Dean's crotch, his warm breath tickling his balls as he spoke. Beads of sweat broke out on Dean's brow, and he knew Sammy had enough control to wait until Dean begged for it. He would wait all day.

"You know I want you."

"Want me to do what now?" Sam asked innocently, trailing a finger from Dean's knee up the inside of his thigh, not quite reaching his balls, and back again. Dean moaned with longing. He'd beg for it alright, and he was going to make it count.

"I want you to jack me off, suck my cock and finally fuck me hard, Sammy. I need you. Need your cock inside me and your mouth around mine."

"You got it. Bitch." Before Dean could respond to the quip, Sammy had taken his cock in his mouth, was massaging it with one hand while he sucked it off, and it was so glorious Dean nearly came on the spot.

Sammy tasted the salty pre-cum and pulled away. "Not yet," he murmured, lips meeting Dean's again and licking round the inside of his mouth, so Dean would taste himself. "There's just the small matter of me fucking you hard, wasn't that right?"

He spread Dean's legs a little further apart and dipped his mouth lower to Dean's tight little rim, opening him up with his tongue, making him gasp and moan and want to take more than just a tongue.

Sammy spread the lube over his hands and ever so gently slipped one finger inside Dean, getting him ready, whilst he worked his own cock with his other hand. The pleasure was evident on both their faces and for a minute they just rocked backwards and forwards together, Sammy's finger in Dean moving at the same pace as his hand on his cock.

Finally Dean gasped, "Do it," and Sam positioned his body so he could drop his head for a kiss. He grew serious for a moment. "You want me to do this? You want me to unchain you for it?"

"Yes, no!" Dean moaned. "Yes, do it. I don't want you to untie me. That's half the fun. Now get on with it."

Sam obliged, but gently, sliding his cock to Dean's entrance and pushing just slightly, allowing Dean's body to yield to his flesh, which it did, accepting him bit by bit until Sammy had enough length to start carefully thrusting in and out. Even moving this slowly was an immensely pleasurable experience for them both, and they both gave contented little sighs and shared another kiss, more tenderly, as Dean relaxed and loosened, giving Sammy greater access.

The time for tenderness had passed, and Dean being tied up wasn't the occasion for gentle lovemaking. So Sam moved faster as the sounds of pleasure he heard grew louder and stronger, though he was by no means quiet himself. The pair were approaching their climax, but Sammy wanted to squeeze one more thing out of Dean while he had the opportunity of power.

"I'm close Dean," he panted into his ear. "So close, taking you like this, knowing you want me bad. You do want me, right?" His hand slipped down to Dean's cock and jerked it off again as he continued to thrust inside.

"Yes Sammy, I want you, I want you to come right in me, don't hold back," Dean garbled.

"Good, Dean. But first, you're going to come for me." He was shaking his fist, hearing Dean's ragged cries as Sammy jerked his cock and fucked him good, one thrust, two and then Dean's hips trembled and he was coming hot and wet into Sam's hand, shooting between their bodies as Sammy set free his own orgasm and let Dean take his load.

Sam lay heavily upon Dean as they both caught their breath, and then shakily pulled out, fumbled for the key to the cuffs and unlocked Dean at last, allowing him to roll over onto his side behind Sammy, who was too exhausted to argue against being the little spoon. After a minute or two he wanted to see Dean's face, so rolled over to him and was enveloped in Dean's strong, albeit shaking arms.

"I did tell you I'd have that suit on the floor of a motel room," Dean yawned.

"You weren't expecting what was inside though, were you?" Sam muttered sleepily, post-coital drowsiness overcoming them both. They shared a lazy kiss that was full of love and trust.

"I think you enjoyed yourself as well, Sammy. Perhaps we should try it more often."

"Perhaps I'll have another trick up my sleeve next time, or down my pants as it were."

Dean grinned wickedly, licking his lips and savouring all that had happened tonight, and the promise of what was yet to come. There was one thing he'd always loved about Sammy, and it was that he always kept his promises. He nuzzled into Sam's hair, thinking he was probably the luckiest man alive.

"I can hardly wait, baby boy."


End file.
